Quil's Claire
by E.B. Rowling
Summary: A story about Quil and Claire. I just read the part where Jacob explained to Bella about Quil's being imprinted with a two-year-old in 'Eclipse.' I have not read the end of the book yet, though, so if I get anything inaccurate to the ending, I'm sorry.
1. Prologue

Prologue

**Prologue**

It was just another day in that sunny, sweet kitchen. Emily stood at the stove, swinging her hands every which way to get the right ingredients for her filet mignon.

Quil sat behind her, sitting in a gruff silence. Currently, a picture of of a little two-year-old was sitting in his head, and he couldn't get it out.

"Quil," said Emily slowly, cautiously, as if she was afraid something bad might happen if she said it. "Quil," she repeated. "My sister's leaving town for a while. On business. Her husband hasn't been home for three years, and he's not going to come back." She figured this was the nicest way of saying 'he left my sister.' "So she'll need somebody to care for her."

Quil choked on his orange juice, his eyes suddenly wide open. "Do you mean…"

"Claire and Ivy are coming down for four months. My sister's an investigative reporter, and she's on a really important case—one that she can't take her kids to." Emily paused, for dramatic effect or to let this news sink into Quil. "Claire and Ivy are coming down tomorrow."

Quil burst up, not being able to contain himself. Inside, all of him was bursting and bubbling excitedly, and on the outside, he was leaping and screaming. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" he cried. "My luck is amazing. I love you, Emily, and I'll see you tomorrow!" he screeched. With that, he sped out the door.

Outside, Sam and Jacob were just coming to the house now. "Sam! Jacob!" exclaimed Quil, grabbing both of their shoulders and shaking. "Claire's coming down tomorrow! For four months! Go ask Emily!"

With that, he skipped away, moving in giant leaps and bounds. He'd never felt so free.


	2. Chapter 1

Prologue

**Chapter 1**

Quil craned his neck impatiently, sitting on the windowsill and peering out the window. He stared down the long, winding roads of La Push, and didn't stray his eyes.

"Oh god, Quil, she'll be here soon," Emily sighed. "Relax."

Sam nodded. "And whatever you do, don't get mad that she's not here yet. It's not her fault. Probably traffic from the airport to here."

"Quil, I don't know if I'm really okay with this," breathed Emily. "It's a little—"

"Early," finished Quil. "Listen, Emily, I'm not going to try to kiss her or anything. I'm imprinted." He glanced around, making sure nothing else was lurking in the room. "I love her."

"Right." Emily frowned. Suddenly, Jacob's mouth fell open. He'd been silent in the corner this whole time, but suddenly he jumped towards the window. His gigantic feet landed with a thud.

"Emily's here!" he reported. Quil couldn't suppress his scream of delight as he scurried to the door. His hands were quivering madly as he opened the door to reveal Emily's sister.

Emily's sister, Bridgette, was much like her, look-wise. But personality-wise, there wasn't two people so different. Bridgette was wise and adventurous, never content to sit still for long. She wasn't made for motherhood.

Emily, on the other hand, was sweet and caring, willing to clean or cook. She didn't mind a quiet, serene life, as long as she shared it with somebody she loved—like Sam.

"Oh, Bridgette!" screamed Emily with the delight, burying herself in her sister's bulky arms. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm great!" flush-faced Bridgette responded. "Claire? Ivy?" Claire came waddling up the stairs, and Quil felt his breath catch in his throat.

She was even more adorable that he remembered. Her little, pudgy body was wrapped gently in a pale pink blanket. Her red cheeks bulged like a little chipmunk's and her long, blue eyes were watering with drowsiness. A soft coo escapd her lips, and then she came waddling towards Emily. "Emma," she said. "Emma, Emma, Emma, Emma," she continued squeaking until the words interlaced and became "Emmaemmaemma."

Quil watched, his eyes soft and his heart racing. Bridgette took a glance at his face and then back at Claire's. Slowly, her head swiveled back and forth, back and forth, gaining speed as she went along. "Why are you looking at Claire like that?" she suddenly asked, looking suspicious.

"Cute kid," said Quil, trying at nonchalance.

"Oh." Bridgtte eyed him anxiously, but—not being the brightest of things—didn't seem too nervous. Emily, however, wasn't so oblivious to the matter. The entire meet-and-greet in the hallway, she was watching Quil, to prevent him from going to Claire or hugging her—for now. She didn't want Bridgette to get the wrong idea.

Finally, it was time for Bridgette to leave the kids and leave. With a few tearful hugs and kisses to her children, she was off. Emily turned to Quil, her face desperate. "Can't you fight it?" she requested.

"Emily!" he screamed. "I'm imprinted! Claire is my gravity. I'm not in love with her! Not romantically, not yet. I'm her big brother." Instinctively, he reached down and gathered her up in his arms. "Whatever she wants, she gets, from this point on."

Emily glanced apprehensively towards Sam, but Sam only wrapped his arm around her. "Really. It's nothing weird. He's just imprinted; not romantic, not yet."

"Fine." Emily wasn't very reluctant anymore. In fact, she was smiling a bit. "This is one lucky kid."

Claire was so drowsy that she didn't notice the grown-up's conversation was revolving around her.


	3. Chapter 2

Prologue

Chapter 2

"It's creepy," Jacob complained.

"But it's not romantic," protested Sam. "It's almost sweet."

"No! He spends every flicking second with that little kid." He peered down the hallway, making sure Quil wasn't in hearing range. No, Quil was too preoccupied with tending to Claire's every want and need. Ever since she'd arrived, only a week ago, he'd barely ever let go of her. Every free second he had, he spent with her—giving her juice boxes, teaching her to chew gum and not swallowing it, being her tutor, and doing anything for her.

"It's a little weird, yes. But we can't do anything about it." Sam sighed, hearing the cry of Quil's delight. Claire must have spoken another word.

"I wish he wouldn't obsess over her so much when he's with us, though. 'Claire did this' and 'Claire did that."

"I was like that with Emily! Did you say anything about me behind my back?"

"Uh, I wasn't there," replied Jacob awkwardly. There was a curt silence, and then Sam refilled it.

"Right. Well, anyways, it wasn't weird with me and Emily! It was 'nice' we were such a good couple." He surveyed the kitchen absently, as if looking at traces of Emily. As if he could see her fingerprints. "But with Claire? It's 'weird.' Be nice, Jacob, we can't help who we're imprinted with."

Jacob grumbled, but soon forgot the entire conversation as he dove into a batch of Emily's oatmeal cookies.

Down the hallway, Quil was sitting with Claire. He'd never realized the wonders of little kids. Or maybe it was just the wonders of Claire.

Every step she took and every word she said was like a blessing to Quil's heart. He cherished her every breath. The feeling made him feel light and fluttery inside; he was the big brother he'd always wanted to be. Oftentimes, as he set Claire down for her nap or bedtime, he'd whisper in her ear, "Who's your brother?" And, even if it had only been seven days, he'd taught her to respond.

"You," she say in her stifling-adorable little kid voice.

"Right."

Quil had immediately put her on a child-safe schedule. He'd compiled it just two days after Emily had given him the news that Claire was coming to visit.

10:00- wake Claire up

10-11- Go on a walk

11-12- Sit down for lunch with the guys, Claire, and Emily. (Preferably made-by-Emily food—but only if Claire likes it.)

12-1- Naptime for Emily, and maybe for me, if I'm tired

1-3- Playing in the play den or going somewhere fun

3-4- Going for another walk

4-7- Leaving Claire with Emily, going out with the guys or doing something non-Claire to keep a balanced schedule for myself and for her

7-8- Dinner with the guys, Emily, and Claire

8-9- Watch TV with Claire (only kid-appropriate)

9- Claire's bedtime

Of course, Quil's day didn't end there, but Claire's did. Emily, who had warmed up to the whole idea of Quil being Claire's big brother, had approved this schedule. She figured, if a kid was going to have a big brother, a big brother that was imprinted was the best choice.

Quil, however, had forgotten that his brotherly love for Claire was wolf-magic and not just real compassion. He loved the way he felt around her—protective, loved, and safe.

And the best part was: Claire had warmed up to him. She loved the way he taught her words and let her roam free, as long as she was safe. Every morning, she would wake up to his gigantic body softly singing her awake, and she would squeal with delight. Even in seven days, she'd learned their bedtime goodbye and "Quilllllllllllllll!"

Quil's buddies weren't so fond of the fact he worshipped a two-year-old. Of course, nothing could be done: Quil was madly in (brotherly) love with her.

Jacob and Sam's conversation had been one of the many spoken about Quil and Claire.

"What if she turns out to be a crook?" they would often worry aloud.

"I'll teach her otherwise," Quil would stubbornly respond, and nobody could reply to that because they knew he was right. Although Bridgette lived two hours away, they all knew Quil would visit Claire at least every three days when Claire had to leave.

Finally, it was bedtime. Quil reluctantly glanced at the watch and saw the dreaded time blaring back at him—9:00.

"Claire," he whispered gently, having to shake her fragile, tiny body awake a bit. "Let's get you into bed." Hannah Montana played on the screen, but Claire was too tired to notice. Her eyes were but mere slits as she slipped her hand into Quil's and let him lead her into her room: the guest-room. Quil had refused to let her sleep anywhere else but a comfortable, warm room. Ivy slept in Emily's room, because Emily was the one who had to keep Ivy from being jealous of her sister. If Emily didn't pay close and loving to Ivy many hours of the day, Ivy would wonder why Claire got the special treatment. Emily had begun to like this fact; Ivy was a lovely little girl.

"Goodnight, Claire," whispered Quil after he'd set her into bed. "Who's your big brother?"

"You," she muttered sleepily before her breathing became even and she fell asleep.

Quil emerged from the room, refreshed—as usual—from his productive day with Claire. He was beaming as he entered Emily's kitchen.

"Hey, guys," he greeted, seeing Jacob, Sam, and the rest of the pack at the table.

"Hey," growled Jacob. "We've got a problem."

Quil looked back, suddenly alarmed. "What?"

"We've got some leech trouble," muttered Sam.

Quil's eyes flew open, and he let a small gasp escape from his lips. "Oh, god. The Cullens?" He spit the word out like it was something venomous.

"No, worse," Sam replied. "It's a new-blood. Some wild vampire on the loose. From some outside information we got, he's from California but ran away because he was scared he'd kill family and friends. Instead, he's living in some desolate place—a cave on a beach somewhere in La Push—and preying on any innocent passers-by."

It took Quil a moment to digest this information, and when he had, he leapt up. "Let's go!"

"Yeah." Jacob's face was a shocking crimson; it looked as dark as blood compared to his normal-colored chest. "Let's."

Emily stared at all of the pack members' faces, and then she gave a little squeal. Everybody looked towards her, confused.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "But could you all leave?" She glanced down the hallway. "Ivy and Claire are here, and if they come in to see wolves in the kitchen…"

Sam nodded. "Let's go." Everybody flooded out… except for him. He lingered and caught Emily in an embrace, kissing her neck before her lips, and then he broke the kiss and was out.

Outside, the crisp nighttime air hit them in the face. Of course, they weren't cold—no, in fact, the whole lot of them was blistering hot. Their body temperatures were rising rapidly as they got closer and closer to becoming… wolf.

"To the woods," commanded Sam, and they all ran after him into the dark forest. There, they let their anger envelop them, freely bursting from their cut-off jeans.

Quil was anxious as he transformed; he hoped Claire wouldn't hear their mighty growls and howls as they stampeded.

Sam sensed them, looked at him pointedly, and then continued with the changing.

Finally, six full-grown wolves sat by the light of the moon. Quil surveyed them—an odd-looking bunch—and then growled.

Sam's thoughts explained to them that they must spread out, cover all ground in La Push. The newborn bloodsucker would probably be awake by now, terrorizing La Push.

Quil set off triumphantly, his wolfish mindset completely taking over his humane one. He barely remembered Claire or Emily, or the human life he had behind. Instead, he was running through the forest, merely a blur to a pedestrian's eyes. Quil broke through the bushes, headed up the deserted road that winded to one of La Push's many deserted beaches. There, it was rumored a cave sat carved into the mountain.

At any hint of a footstep or signal of a nearing human, Quil would dart into the trees. This was barely necessary—it was the nighttime in a lonely, desolate area. The odor of sea began to strengthen, and sure enough, Quil found himself peering down at a beach. Below, it was only blackness—to reach the beach, he'd have to dive—but he thought he saw a flicker of movement. He composed himself, trying to breath evenly through his wolf's snout. Finally, he came to the edge of the cliff and prepared himself for a dive. Although he was a wolf, he wasn't a normal wolf. What his fellow pack-members weren't aware of was Quil's cliff-diving skills, even while he was a werewolf.

He leapt off with a great tumble, hitting the black, waving waters with ease. His sensitive nose warned him of storm, but he'd swam through the water and landed on the beach before it could be hazardous. His eyes scanned the beach tentatively; he had to be alert to any movement.

Were his ears deceiving him, or had that been a crackle? There was only one way to find out. He broke from his frozen stance and neared the sound, his paws barely making a sound on the wet sand.

Finally, there was a definite crunch of foot against sand. Had the newborn not emerged from his cave yet?

"Show yourself!" a voice demanded suddenly, and Quil felt his heart drop into his chest. His wolf instincts took over his human ones, for if he'd stuck with his human side, he would have been too scared to move. Suddenly, he was overpowered with that wolf passion that had enveloped him so many times.

Quil growled several times, showing his voice—for you couldn't show yourself in this pitch-black light. Quil's ragged breathing became more heavy and animal as he shuffled towards the newborn. The newborn seemed to be frozen still.

Finally, Quil leapt. The sheer speed of it! He loved this feeling, this exhileration, this overpowerment. Within a second, he had the newborn tackled to the ground. There was no light to see by, which made the attack easier. Quil hated to see his victims' faces.

"Gah!" the newborn yelled, and his strength was unbelievable. With surprising force, the newborn had Quil off of him and his icy-cold, rock-hard hands were shoving against Quil's furry body.

Quil's growls only became louder, and he sensed his fellow pack members rushing for him. It was only a matter of time. But, for the few minutes that remained until they arrived on the scene, Quil had to fend for himself. He threw himself back at the newborn, and because it wasn't a surprise, Quil couldn't get him to the ground this time.

"Dog! Pup! Little puppy dog, how are you today?" taunted the newborn, which was the wrong choice.

The growls were fierce and booming now; Quil's teeth were latching onto the vampire's cold leg and he was ramming himself against the newborn. The newborn suddenly fell silent, aware that he was being brutally attacked. He attempted at struggling, pushing Quil off, but it was impossible for a newborn with no experience in fighting werewolves.

Suddenly, with a few great thuds, Quil's friends had arrived. Their growls chorused, leaping and attacking the newborn several times. The newborn attempted to fight back—and was good, for a first-timer—but the pack was too strong.

"Noo," wailed the newborn. "Stop …"

This was the part Quil hated most. He felt his human emotions pouring inside of him, and he longed to back off and leave the poor vampire alone. But this wasn't a possibility.

Within thirty minutes, the vampire was dead.

"Dispose of him," commanded Sam, his voice low and crackling.

Together, the pack dumped the vampire into the sea—never to be seen again.

"Good job, Quil."

The boys were slowly changing, their legs becoming pale and muscled again, and their paws being replaced by their gigantic hands.

"Thanks," muttered Quil back to Sam. But secretly, inside of him, he felt awful.


	4. Chapter 3

Quil floated happily through the next few weeks. If he wasn't with Claire, he was with his buds, and if he wasn't with his buds, he was out alone, howling to the moon.

He wished Claire could be his. He couldn't stop marveling at her—the perfection of her words, the way she learned so quickly. He'd be the best big brother in the world, he knew; if only she could stay with him forever. Time was running out, though. Bridgette was due home any day now. He felt a dull ache in his heart when he thought of Claire leaving him, to be three whole hours away. He didn't understand how he could breathe with Claire not near him. He was worried that when he saw Bridgette, he'd murder her, so that Claire would be forced to live with him.

Right now, Claire lolled happily along the beach, picking up a stone here or there. She'd ask him a question, and if he didn't have the answer, he'd make up one. She liked that—trying to figure out Real from Fake.

It was a calm, misty day. The mountains in the distance were frosted with a purplish fog, and everything just felt off. The silence would stifling and the air was damp. It was the feeling of something coming.

And sure enough, within a few seconds, the roll and crunch of tires told Quil that a car was coming. He watched the familiar green pick-up truck maneuver its way up to Emily's house, and then Bridgette came out.

Such a rush of sadness and anger filled Quil that he could not bare it. Just as he'd anticipated, he wanted to kill her. Claire was _hers_. Bridgette couldn't just take her away!

He felt tears moistening his eyes, but Claire, luckily, didn't notice. Instead, she turned to where Quil was watching, and yelled a shrill, "Mommy!" Before he could stop her, Claire was rushing towards open-armed Bridgette. The two beamed at each other.

Quil looked down, fighting off the tears and trying to even his breathing. He had to appear normal to Bridgette. He tried to push away the thought of murder as he looked up. "Ah! Bridgette!" He came towards her, trying to put on a charming smile. "And how was… wherever you were?"

"India," she smiled. "It was lovely. It's an absolutely beautiful place, you know. I think I got a good piece." She chatted about what her reporting was about while the two made their way to the house.

"Oh! Bridgette!" Emily smiled from the doorway. "Now, here's a lovely surprise! Of course, no call to warn me…"

"Oh, sorry about that. The thought just occurred to me as I was driving up. Erm…surprise?"

The two talked and sat down while Quil sadly dragged his way through packing Claire's bags. "I will mish you," said Claire in a tiny voice. "Visit me?"

"Of course. As much as I can."

"I wuvu," she said, her way of saying 'I love you.' "It's been fun heya. (Here.)"

"Here. You're all packed." Quil sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes. He set the Barbie suitcase on the floor, and Claire grabbed it.

"Sad, big brother?" she asked, seeing the tears that he couldn't help but let stream down his face.

"Very. I'll miss you more than you can understand, Clairey Bear."

"Me, too. Come see me soon."

Claire came out into the kitchen, and was immediately tackled in a hug by Bridgette.

Quil watched solemnly as the final 'good-byes' were made. As soon as Bridgette's truck had pulled out of the driveway, Quil burst out into sobs.


	5. Chapter 4

Have you ever been in love? Has the person you loved ever gone away for a while? Remember that pain, that ache? You wished they would come back. Well, times that by one million, and then you'll understand what Quil was feeling. It was a sadness so heavy that it weighed down his whole body. It had only been two days, and Emily was keeping him from her. "You can't go yet! Bridgette will think you're some sort of child molester. You're going to have to wait at least a week to see her."

So Quil waited, sulking quietly by himself, to see Claire. He didn't eat, and slept through whole days. His gravity was gone, and he didn't see the point to live without her anymore.

But then finally, the seven-mark period came. He woke up on Saturday with a shrill scream, and immediately began to prepare. He shaved and showered; brushed his teeth twice over; didn't bother to eat breakfast, and was in the car by eight o'clock. Emily slid into the car with him, smiling, and off they went.

When they were finally at Bridgette's, Emily smiled. "We just can't get enough of you! Really, Quil loves Claire. Can't bare to be away from her for more than a week."

"Oh." Bridgette didn't smile her usual broad grin. "Listen, Emily, we need to talk."

Quil barely noticed the grim undertone to Bridgette's statement. He tried to hide the breathlessness he felt at seeing Claire again. He ran to her, sweeping her up in his arms. "Brother! I mish you!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He stuck a flower behind her ear and said, "Oh, you don't understand how I missed you, sweetie. Want to take a walk?"

It was like nothing had changed. They walked around the quiet, comfortable suburban neighborhood for a while, and then went to the nearby park. There, they played on the swingset. Quil helped her slide down the slide, and bought her a Popsicle.

Before he knew what had happened, six hours had passed. He sadly shuffled back to the house, knowing Bridgette would be confused at his obvious obsession with Claire. "Out six hours?" she'd ask. "You seem to be very fond of my Claire…"

But when he got back to the house, he didn't meet confused and angry stares. Instead, he saw Emily, alone, leaning against the wall. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she grabbed onto thin air for support.

Quil leaned down to Claire, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and said, "Go to your room, hon. I'll be there in a second." Claire scampered away, sensing the obvious tension. Quil turned back to Emily. "Emily?" he whispered awkwardly, sliding down next to her.

"She's gone." Emily gasped for air, pulling at the tips of her hair. "Bridgette left."

"Left? What do you mean, left?"

"I mean, she's gone. Left. Something about the law…she's in trouble. She left, Quil."

Emily's sobs were shocking, so loud that it felt like the small kitchen couldn't hold them. "What am I supposed to do? Just take them in? I can't be a mother, Quil. I'm barely adjusting to being a wife. A mother! God. But these girls… and my sister! Oh god, my sister…" She burst into fresh tears.

"No. Don't take them in." Quil held himself up strong and tall. "I will."

"Both of them. Sure. You. A father. Quil…"

"I'll take Claire."

"You can't split them up."

"I'll take both. If Claire wants her sister to be there, then I do, too. Whatever Claire wants, I do for her. C'mon, Emily. Who I am without Claire is different than who I am with her."

Emily shook her head, although her tears were beginning to subside. "You can't support a family, Quil. You're not human."

"Not-humans can support families," whispered Quil. "I can support Claire. I can support Ivy if Claire wants me to. Claire is my gravity, Emily."

Emily shook her head, biting her lip. "I know I'll regret this."


	6. Chapter 5

Note: Okay, guys, I don't really remember much from the books about the wolves, so I'm going to make up some stuff. I'm going to make up that Quil is 19, but hasn't gone to college yet. I'm going to make up that his parents have trouble accepting the fact he's a wolf, but still support him financially and talk to him if need be. I'm also going to make up lots of plotlines for the wolves, because I don't remember a lot of things that involve the pack from the book. In this story, pack members do not break off, and there's fights, but I don't really want to include them, so I'll just skip over them. Just say something like "protecting Bella" or something.

AND ALSOOOO

I don't know anything about the adoption business. So in this chapte, I'm just going to make up some stuff. ~Cool, okay, adios! Thanks for reading!

- - -

Quil had to adapt, in just a few short days, to being a father. First, he settled Ivy and Claire in at Emily's, temporarily. The girls couldn't live where he was living with the guys—their apartment was dirty and unfit for little girls. Quil brought out all his savings, and quickly got a job at a local deli. He had an awkward meal with his parents, and squeezed $2,000 out of them. He got donations from fellow pack members, and donations from Emily.

Then, he went to Jacob. Jacob had been spending lots of time with Bella lately—apparently, the leech had gotten the poor girl pregnant, and she was writhing in pain in her own home. Quil tried to block out the sadness in Jacob's mind, and didn't want to see the mental images of a dying Bella. Going to Jacob was hard. Jacob had been suffering because of Bella's pain, so so had the rest of the pack. But he had no choice. "Jacob," he whispered tentatively, coming up to Jacob as he sat on the couch.

"What?" asked the sad, worn-out boy. "What do you want?"

"I'm trying to support a family, Jacob," began Quil.

"You want me to get some money from the blood-suckers? Whatever, mate, fine. They'll throw millions of bucks at you, no prob." Jacob shook his head, trying to push away the tears. "Millions and millions…"

"So you will?" asked Quil gently. "Ask them?"

"Yeah, man. I'll ask."

"Thanks, Jake. You don't know… how much this means to me."

"Whatever, dude."

And with that, Quil left. His relationship with Jacob had always been a little bit off; just brotherhood, and never emotional. Just this short moment had put an uncomfortable strain on the fragile friendship.

But Quil had other things to worry about. Work at the deli was slow and tedious. He still wasn't that school, even though he wanted to be. The rest of the pack was going out a lot, trying to protect Bella and the blood-suckers from whatever dangers there were. When they weren't protecting precious Bella, they were off, beating away the newborns and evil vampires that threatened to ruin La Push and surrounding areas. Every day, Quil was tired in the evening. But despite this, he always found energy in himself to be with Claire. Sometimes, Ivy was there, and other times, she wasn't. Sam took her out often, trying to find other wolves in areas far away. They were trying to get others to imprint on the poor little girl, who was feeling deprived and lonely because Quil couldn't focus as much energy on her as he could on Claire.

One evening, Jacob came home with a million dollars in cash. "From the leeches," he said tiredly.

Quil bought an apartment, just two blocks away from Emily and the rest of the guys. There, he began to thrive. He didn't mind work so much. He hired a nanny named Carlie, who loved little Claire and Ivy.

It took three months for Quil to adapt fully to the family life. He tried to keep his schedule balanced, and occasionally, he'd go to the bloodsuckers' house. He felt like he owed them something for their immense generosity—it wasn't every day that a family of vampires gave you a million-dollar donation.

Claire was more amazing than he ever could have imagined. Every step she took took his breath away. Sometimes, he wished he didn't have the extra burden of Ivy. He just wanted Claire.

"Do you want your sister to live with you?" asked Quil one night, lying next to Claire on her teeny Cinderella-themed bed.

"I want my sistaw to be happy," said Claire. "She's not happy heya. I want her to find some who wuvs hah like you wuv me. I wuv Ivy, and she wants wuv like I have."

Quil enrolled Ivy in the adoption world. Before he knew what was happening, parents were coming to his door. "Can we meet your charming little four-year-old?"

Parent after parent said a quick 'maybe' or 'no.' Not one said 'yes.' "A four year old… how troublesome…"

And then finally, one day, the doorbell rang. Quil opened it, expecting one just like the others—perky at first, but not so sure by the end. "She's sweet," they said. "But we kind of want a baby instead…"

There, standing at the door, was a beautiful woman. Of course, she wasn't vampire-gorgeous or anything, but she was pretty stunning. Her red hair reached her waist, and it shined and flowed. There were dark purple circles under her eyes—signs of worrying and tiredness—but she totally worked the look. She was young-looking, but not too young. Next to her stood an all-right looking black-haired man, who smiled. "We want a little girl."

The couples' names were Erik and Jessie. They came every week, at least four times a week.

I'll skip over the gory details of adoption. It was a hard, long process, but by the end, Ivy drove away, beaming, in a green minivan with two new parents who would cherish her until the end of time.


End file.
